Writing has always been an outlet for me. I am finding it to be more difficult than when I began my blog some 100 plus posts ago. Maybe it’s because my self journey has opened so many memories and doors that I struggle to share them. Maybe I am just so worn out with the world attitude and shitty people that I want to hide from liars and thieves. Maybe it’s because my heart doesn’t want to believe that what I see is truly what I see and then again maybe it’s because of my distrust in them and in humans in general. I trust dogs.
I started a diary when I was 7 or 8 and found that to be an incredible tool for me until it was taken and used against me. After that, I was so afraid to write my truth that I stopped. I was forced to defend my writing and I learned instead to scribble out my words. Write them and hide them so that no one would know how I felt. That certainly didn’t stop the truth from being used as a battering ram, but it did teach me cover up my feelings, erase my dreams, bury the hurt and never talk about my heart. It was the first lesson in a long line of lessons that always ended with the fact is that no one cared about truth unless it paints them in a beautiful picture. No one cared about feelings especially if they were the one who fractured the relationship or whatever the subject of the day was. Little people have huge feelings. Little people deserve to safely express their emotions without being told how wrong they are. They will never have honesty and trust without that safe place and it will carry over into their adulthood. Writing is a way to get them out and express them privately. Diaries weren’t meant for anyone except the writer. The person who took my diary still lives a life like that. One who dominates by fear, control, hate, jealousy and prejudice. The irony isn’t lost on me. Here I am some 40 plus years later, and I still guard my internal peace, my hopes, dreams and hurts like a child. I find myself protecting the people who are completely unworthy of having their reputations protected. I detest confrontation and they, of course, have no accountability in their actions and justify their hatefulness by gaslighting and hiding their truths. I don’t hide my truth, I just don’t name them. Perhaps that’s a two fold problem. If I don’t name them then they have no power over me. I don’t name them and I don’t have to expose myself to them either.
Prior to studying personality disorders, I just thought psychopathy was for the murderers and felons; how wrong I was. I was reading an article about psychopathic behavior and realized quickly that Psychopaths are everywhere. They walk among us and carry out acts of terror against us in many small ways. They do it and it’s written off as funny or “just how they are”. We are so quick to dismiss sick behavior as long as we are laughing and stay surrounded by it. Once away, one realizes how completely abnormal it truly is. There are people who do things like taping children in boxes and not letting them out when they ask or putting ether on a rag and putting it over someone’s mouth and nose for fun just to see what happens, pulling the legs off frogs or harming innocent animals and people. They that get by with it because of who they are. No one calls it what it truly is! Then there are less obvious things like sick jokes and “dark humor” and ways that are more socially acceptable such as defaming people, a quick smack around here and there or denying people of basic needs. No one notices those things! The behavior patterns that are so off the scale are very often dismissed with humor because of social norms and status. That’s psychotic.
My truth is often painful and I am continually working on new chapters so that the truth of adulthood becomes something that does not have to be hidden. I have been working on self improvement and awareness for many years. I haven’t always done it right. At times I wonder if my behavior has been a bit psychopathic. I have engaged in laughing at dark humor. I have fallen for people who live on that line and similarly found myself on the edge. Thank God that I didn’t stay in that place long. Today, I have to live a truth that is kind and loving and ultimately easier and written by me and my choices. I refuse to allow my failure and fear to become weapons for someone else’s folly. My failure will be used to improve myself and the people I love. My fear will no longer hold back my word’s to defend my actions or to advocate for truth. Maybe my actions will be so incredibly clear that defense and my fight or flight will become completely unnecessary. That’s where I am going. Where I have been becomes more and more irrelevant the older I become. However that goal never lessens the impact of what brought me here.
How do you feel about your journey to this point? Have you found that the negative things in life and in this world have made you question everything? Are you bitter? Are you blessed? Are you healing? Are you improving? Regardless of my surroundings, my inner voice belongs to me. Only me. My choice to fall into the darkness is mine alone. It doesn’t rain and the drought is terrifying….what, in that, do you control? You only control how you turn on your light. That is all. Someone hates you….how do you control that? You don’t. You control you and your internal voice. Not your problem. You say you can’t hear your spirit? Oh, my friend, are you listening? Are you too caught up in the noise? Are you reading someone else’s diary? Are you too busy analyzing how someone got what they have? Are you jealous? Are you busy trying to understand why someone would do something? That’s the biggest waste of time there is. Your truth lies within you. If you are surrounded by people or psychopaths who create chaos and unrest in your world, just stop. Walk away. Breathe. Listen. Settle into the picture of your life and dream about the way you want things to look. The peace is worth the fear. Fear is temporary. Peace is worth every second of fear. Escaping the confines of your life is self preservation. Run your own race. Manage your own life and mind. Fifty five years seems like a long time to have to learn to walk by myself. Even though my love and my children are with me, I am alone. I am good with that. My mind is becoming a place of absolute peace. A place that I am unwilling to share with people who want nothing more than to upset my hard work. Protection has an entirely new meaning to me these days. I’m not looking for anyone else to protect me, that is a failed system. The one that works for me is viewed as selfish and somewhat arrogant, I think.
Today, I am curled up in my favorite plaid wool wrap I bought in Scotland and I am reminded of sweet memories during some of the darkest times in my life. The irony is that life is just that. Sweet times in the midst of hardship. The lesson is that they don’t last and neither will the people who have lived, rent free, in your mind. The psychopaths who have damaged you can not survive without your assistance. Time to pull your weeds.
To my 3 chickens….. this is a good lesson for you. Read it again and again and don’t wait 20 years to hear your inner voice. That doesn’t mean because you hear it that you have to say it. Silence is powerful. Write it down and keep it. Scribble it out if you must. Do whatever is necessary to find the joy. I love you.
Walk. I’m so thankful I can
Listen closely. Thank you Chicken 3 for the reminder. I love you.